


A Visitor

by Medokre



Category: xxxHoLic
Genre: Gen, What if Watanuki talks to people he never talked to in the actual manga, meetings, mentions of yuko, mostly short chapters based on that, talk, theory, what if two strange beings talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:48:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23695699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Medokre/pseuds/Medokre
Summary: A visitor, an old friend of Yuko's comes to talk with the new shopkeeper. They talk about wishes, and they talk about Yuko. Clow Reed, an enigma of all worlds come and speaks to Watanuki in his dreams. He must come to terms that his power is only budding, and he is still frighteningly lost without Yuko. His friends watch from the sides, unable to stop.
Kudos: 7





	1. A Law

Watanuki realizes that a customer is here rather than noticing it. He used the term customer loosely, as it didn’t truly fit the entity that entered the shop. Quickly gathering some sake and snacks he rushed out, glancing at the twins who stared at him curiously. Strange, they didn’t notice the being either. From what he knew, they didn’t mean any harm but was of considerable power.

“Hello.” He greets politely, glancing at the being sitting down on the porch. They had a face with features that could only be described as purposefully bland and forgettable. Hair color that Watanuki knew he was staring at but couldn’t name which color. 

“Ah, so it was true.” The being greets. “That Yuko has long passed.”

Watanuki tries not to frown or flinch from the mention. He has long accepted that Yuko was gone, but to say that she had passed. . .no less from a complete stranger. . . “What business do you have with the shop?”

“I’m sure you’ve already noticed that the shop didn’t acknowledge me.” Replied the being with what Watanuki thought a smirk. “Can you guess why?”

The mysterious testing style of speaking reminded him uncomfortably of Yuko. This entire conversation would not go well. Carefully, he thought as he set down the tray of sake and snacks and poured them both a drink. If not a customer, then perhaps? “Are you another form of wish-granter? Or a being that trespasses all boundaries?”

“First one, you’re quite clever for such a young child.” praised the being, sounding genuinely pleased. They glanced down at the cup of sake and shook their head in a mournful manner. “I don’t think I can take that. There are rules.”

“You haven’t answered, why are you here?” Repeated Watanuki, hesitantly pushing aside the tray. He wished for the pipe, but felt strange about bringing it out. The taste of tobacco soothed him.

“I’m here to chat. After all, I was an old friend of Yuko. I simply wished to see who she had chosen as successor.” The being replied. The words felt true and the way he spoke of her name had familiarity and comfort. Watanuki stared, uncertain of what to do. “We can trade in the form of questions and answers.”

That was something he was much more familiar with. Giving and taking are universal rules of the shop and wish granting. It was information for information.

“I see. It would be rude of me to ask first.” Replied Watanuki, aiming for a pleasant smile. The hem of Yuko’s kimino felt itchy on his skin. He distantly wondered what this old friend of Yuko thought, seeing him wearing her clothes and trying her smile. Did he see a desperate faker? 

“Well, what was Yuko to you?” asked the being, voice carefully clear and steady. 

That was simple and entirely too complicated for him to start. She was everything to him. A mother, lover, sister. As the essence of a mother she brought him into this world of spirits and connections, where before he was alone and a step away from vanishing. As a lover, she had loved him and desired his company. As a sister she was family to him, guiding him and giving him what he needed to grow. What they had was an unnamed connection, but because it was undefined it could be taken as anything.

Yes, Yuko was everything to him. And he missed it.

“I was a customer to her, but I think we both were much more than that. She became everything I wished for, even things I were unaware of.” He replied morosely. Thinking of her brought up uncertainty and pain from loss.

“Ah everything can be defined as anything depending on the person, no? Well answered.” Replied the being sounding nostalgic. “Of course, that means it can become anything, that everything. Including going back to nothing.”

“She has given and changed me too much for that.” Refuted Watanuki. “Like she says, it’s hitsuzen.”

“From the past forward it is merely a coincidence, from the future now it is hitsuzen. For normal people it can be a coincidence that becomes fate. For beings that are not human it is hitsuzen. Because human wills are what define us and will eventually become of us, such term as hitsuzen implies there is no control. Only events that cannot be changed.” The being offers his own answer. Watanuki takes it.

“I don’t think so, it is events that will happen regardless of interference or neglect.” Replies Watanuki. “Hitsuzen happens when we make choices. It is an answer and product."

"Then we can define hitsuzen as nothing that is anything. It is not an answer.” The being says almost disinterestedly. Watanuki patiently waits. After a pause, they speak again. “It is your turn to question.”

“Can you tell me about Yuko?” he asks, fingering the silk of the kimino.

“That’s much too vague.”

“Was there anyone that considered Yuko their everything? Besides me?”

The being chuckled and Watanuki felt riled up by the action. He forced himself to calm down. “A little jealous aren’t we? Well, there was a person who stopped Yuko’s time when she was meant to die with a simple thought. Terrifying. Do you know who?”

“No, I don’t.” Watanuki replied noting that the being wasn’t replying to the question directly. Was it even possible for a mere thought to stop someone else’s time? Especially someone as powerful as Yuko. It would be a monstrously powerful being, a person beyond perhaps the confines of universes and time itself.

The being set down a photograph. Watanuki knew he had to return it, but picked it up anyways. It was a picture of an adult man with what appeared to be a kindly smile. He had black hair and wore foreign robes. He had the same glasses that Watanuki had, perhaps Watanuki was wearing his glasses. It wouldn’t be strange if he were, after all it could be hitsuzen. If he squinted, he could see the resemblance in their features. It was strange, because perhaps one day he'd look like this man, if he ever decided to unfreeze his own time.

“Who is this man?” Asked Watanuki. There would be a price, there would always be a price that he’d have to pay, but for now he wanted answers more.

“Clow Reed.” Replied the being. Watanuki set down the picture. “He’s gone now.”

“But not forever.” Agreed Watanuki.

“The soul is immortal whereas the body fades.” Muttered the being. 

“What will I have to pay you?” 

“Tell me about the people around you. Perhaps the one with a pure soul that lingers for too long. What is his wish?”

Domeki? Was that who they were referring to as the pure soul? He couldn’t think of any other that would linger too long. Kohane did have a pure soul as well, but not the sort that this being was probably referring to. Did Domeki have a wish? He wasn’t sure.

“I’m not sure. He can see the shop and enter it, but perhaps that could’ve been of Yuko’s meddling?” Wondered Watanuki.

“That’s not a good answer at all.” Teased the being, and Watanuki felt something cold settle down in his stomach. There was something dangerous about the being and he knew that he hadn’t fully paid the satisfactory price. Something more, something more, always more.

“If he can see the shop, yes. If he has not spoken of his wish to me, then perhaps it would go long beyond me and to Yuko herself. Something he is still paying for. Wishes that haven't been spoken to me, can't be granted by me after all.” He hoped it would even the balance. The being nodded and Watanuki fought back the urge to sigh in relief. 

“Tell me why now you have decided to visit.”

“The new must replace the old.” Mused the being. “The strongest of us has fallen, it is now the time of a new era.”

“The strongest being Yuko?” 

The being nodded. “She is the pinnacle of destiny and fate. I wanted to see how the newest child is taking on the mantle. You have been doing well, but not as well as Yuko of course. Her interference went beyond the boundaries of universes after all, and you still have trouble dealing with these worlds.”

That felt discouraging to hear that Yuko’s strength and power went far beyond his. Then of course it made sense. She was Yuko after all. Yuko was nothing if not knowing smiles and tangled strings of mystery and fate. The more you try to untangle the more you get tangled in with her.

“What do you trade in?” Watanuki asked carefully.

“I am a law, I uphold traditions. But since the world is in constant flux, people need to sacrifice and adapt to the changes. I am the resulting law of that. Much as you are the law of the wish shop.” The being smiles. The conversation is carefully measured, like a balance beam. It is hard to step outside of the balance and into personal topics, as they would weigh too heavy. “You are hesitating, are you not? To wait for her or rejoin the world around you.”

“Can you tell me if she will return?” That was a heavy question, far too heavy. The balance would snap under the pressure. He feels it from the steady frown on the being’s face, the steady thrum of the shop. He would pay for it later, the being does not want to pay for it, he can tell.

“Everything is inevitable. Once change happens, it is complete. You cannot return to what it once was. You can look through a glass, or visit through a mirror, but you as an existence? You cannot return.” The flower petals flew through the air and the being stared straight at him, the face solemn. The balance is tipping, it is enough to keep Watanuki safe, but it isn’t enough to keep him whole. Or satisfied.

“Time, isn’t constant is it?” Mused Watanuki. 

The being stared at him. The sentence hung in the air, posed as a simple musing. If they took it, it would become a question.

“You would know, shopkeeper. But you should also know that ‘you’ have tried and tested against this before.” Sayoran. In the distance rings a bell. The being stands. “It’s time for me to go. We will meet again one day. You will find your answer by then, I promise.”

“I will?” Desperate hope he had tried to keep hidden leaked into his voice. The being laughed and left. Watanuki felt loss, he wanted to run after the being that so easily slipped past the gates. But it was impossible. He couldn't leave.

The screen door opened behind him. Domeki looked down. “Who was that?”

“A tradesman like myself.” Watanuki replied. “I had a good conversation.”

“Mmm.”

“What? It really was! Now get out of the way, I need to take this inside.”


	2. Dreamwalkers

Watanuki dreams of Yuko. Which is strange, he hardly dreams for the sake of pleasure. Even sleeping has become his work now. To just dream of Yuko, it was no coincidence. Yuko looked brilliantly beautiful as always, wearing the black ‘dimensional witch’ dress she wore for when dealing with other worlds.

Yuko looked past him and behind. Watanuki turned around. It was the man from the picture the being showed him, Clow Reed. 

“Hello.” Clow Reed spoke, probably to Yuko. But he faced him directly and Watanuki felt his breath hitch. This man was immensely powerful after all.

“Can you see me?”

“I can.” He agreed. “You must be Watanuki?”

Clow knew of his existence even before they first met. It was ominous. “Is there something you want to talk about?”

Conversations in dreams weren’t measured, and if they were, it wasn’t in any way that Watanuki knew about. Haruka’s company and advice never was taken into any price or payment that Watanuki was aware about. 

“No, I just wished to talk to you.” The man smiled, calm and in control. “Come closer.”

He obliged, drawing nearer. The man was tall, as he was a full-grown adult. Watanuki would perennially be the height of a budding teen, doomed to be shorter than the average adult population. The man felt familiar, like the way the aftertaste of a foreign drink was familiar.

Watanuki glanced back at the Yuko. She was looking at him, before nodding, and fading. “Where did she go?”

“She wanted to bring you here, and once she was done, she left.” Clow told him. “How is the shop?”

“It’s fine. I manage it in her absence.”

“Is it not incomplete?” Asked Clow. Watanuki felt like bristling, he often did, when these powerful beings came around and critiqued him. “I meant no harm, is it just that, you haven’t grown into your skill.”

“And how will I complete it? This is why you came to me after all.” Murmured Watanuki his guess running along the veins of instinct. "Or I came to you, not that it matters when it comes to dreams."

Clow summons a sigil in the air, flashing absolute. It is the sigil Watanuki uses for spellcasting, it had called to him when he had seen it engraved in the box where he found his new glasses. Despite the flashing sigil, none of the man's magic was radiating from it. The rules of dreams were much different than reality, was the acceptable theory. “You use this sigil right?”

There was something inherently obnoxious about Clow and he didn’t know what it was. “I do.”

Clow demonstrated a spell, something twisted in the air around him. He watched carefully as the man patronizingly showed the mechanic of the spell. From what Watanuki gleaned, it was a spell for moving between worlds.

“This is a spell that allows the shop to move places between worlds.” 

“Is this how to ‘complete’ the shop?” he asked disbelievingly.

“No, it’s the key to the shop's completion. The shop reflects it’s keeper rather than being a stable existence. When it was Yuko’s there was no need for it to undergo any changes. Yuko is complete, therefore the shop was complete. But you are not Yuko.” He sounded apologetic when pointing that out.

“I am not Yuko.” Agreed Watanuki, keeping emotion out of his voice “So what is the key to its completion?”

“Grant more wishes. Think of it as a game, you gain more experience every time you grant a wish. You solidify your existence as a shopkeeper the more you grant wishes.” Clow told him. “You are a very frail existence. Without the shop, it is very likely your being is dependent on the bonds you created. Should those bonds ever fail, it would not be a very happy fate for you.”

Watanuki stared, emotions conflicting across his face. Clow shook his head.

“There is no point in regrets. If Yuko made us meet, it is highly likely she foresaw you choosing this path.”

“Not hitsuzen?” he murmured, looking off into the distance.

“No, not hitsuzen. I do not believe in hitsuzen.” Clow said decisively. “I can foresee and foretell futures, but there are among many futures. All of them cannot be in accordance with hitsuzen.”

“You stopped Yuko’s time. You wanted her to live. What was your relationship with her?” He stared at Clow Reed, eyes demanding answers.

“It hurts being apart from the one you love.” Clow repeated, as if reading from a script. Watanuki swallowed the urge to bodily maim the man.

“That doesn’t answer anything.”

“Is how I know her that important? More important than realizing why we were set to meet, and about our future?” 

“Would you answer?” Clow opened his mouth but Watanuki cut him off immediately. “No you wouldn’t, you’d say something terribly cryptic like, ‘you’ll realize it when you do’ like Yuko does. But at least Yuko was Yuko, she’s allowed to be all cryptic and all-seeing, you aren’t.”

“I was actually going to say to tutor you, but alright. You’ll realize it when you do.” Clow smiled, very very amused.

Watanuki felt even more infuriated. It was a different emotion from when he flailed his arms and shouted at Doumeki, it was a more gripping and visceral rage. It was unlike him, and he frowned at the realization.

“You feel inexplicably angry at me, don’t you?” Clow spoke, as if he was reading his thoughts. “No I cannot read your thoughts, at least while we’re in a dream. This is Yuko’s dream. Her feelings should still linger.”

Curiosity got the better of him. “Have you done something to her?”

“Well, that’s a different reason from why we’ve met in this dream. It will cost you, and the payment isn’t something you can give. You already know we created the monokas together, right? There are puzzle pieces, you can put them together. Make your own delusions.” Clow told him in an infuriatingly plain voice.

“If I complete the shop would I be able to make payment?” Demanded Watanuki.

“We’ll see. I don’t know the extent of what you can become.” Mused Clow. "Do you remember what your summon is?"

"Of course I do." He snorted, realizing how much he was repressing the urge to outright murder the man. The awareness that his violence urges weren't entirely his comforted him. Perhaps Yuko had wanted to murder Clow, and he as her proxy in dreams should make it come true.

"Don't try to murder me." Clow asked politely.

"I thought you couldn't read minds?" He replied archly.

"No, I just recognized the look in your eyes." Clow spoke kindly. Watanuki wondered how many people this man must've enraged if he was familiar with the prospect of being looked at with the desire of murder. He wouldn't be surprised if it was a very long list.

There was shifting in Watanuki’s pocket, distracting him from musing about how exactly long Clow's list of protentional murderers was. When he took it out, a lively bird was in his hand. 

The bird chirped brightly and hopped onto his arm. He watched fondly as it ruffled it's feathers and took flight into the air. When he turned to look at Clow, the man was wearing a bittersweet expression.

“You really do remind me of her.” The name Yuko went unsaid, and he wondered how he reminded this strange man of someone as mysterious as Yuko. It comforted him slightly, to know that the resemblance wasn't only skin deep - in her clothes, her pipe, her lidded eyes - and in reiterated phrases. On the other hand, from how mournful Clow Reed looked at him, it also didn't seem to spell anything good. “You should go, that bird will be the guide out of this dream. It’ll get dangerous to linger. We’ll see each other again.”

“Hitsuzen.” Agreed Watanuki.

“High probability.” Diagreed Clow.

Watanuki didn’t bother answering and followed the chirping bird.


	3. Shared Saviors

Himawari Kunogi sat outside the shop as she watched the shifting form of the outside world. Visiting the shop was both when she felt the most happiest and regretful.

“Hello.” the other girl in the shop, Tsuyuri greeted as she joined her on the patio. Himawari gave her a friendly smile, betraying nothing.

“Tsuyuri, right?” Himawari greeted.

“You can call me Kohane, I don’t mind.” The girl replied quietly and openly.

“Oh, really? Then you can call me Himawari too.” 

“It’s nice meeting you Himawari. This is the first time we’ve ever met.”

“It is! I’ve heard about you from Watanuki, though. It feels as if I’ve known you before because of that.”

“Same here. Watanuki smiles when he talks about you.”

“He always smiles.”

Kohane shakes her head. “Not all of them are real.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” Himawari says honestly. They sit together in awkward silence, and she feels strangely guilty, as if not knowing her beforehand was her fault. “Since we’ll only meet once a year, do you have any confessions you want to make? It’s best to tell secrets to an unrelated party. Like say, who’s your crush?”

Kohane seemed a little flustered from Himawari’s rapid change in topic and the strange suggestion, but took it in with grace. “I don’t really have a crush, but my most important person is Watanuki.”

Himawari smiled strangely at that. “I agree, Watanuki is also a very important person of mine.”

“You left.” Kohane stated, her tone devoid of judgement, which Himarwari was very grateful for.

“I know. It was necessary of me to do so.” She replies. “Did you know that Watanuki had a crush on me?”

“He still does.”

“I do too, and it makes me glad to hear that he still loves me in such a way. It’s selfish, but you can’t not want your own crush to like you back.”

“I don’t find it selfish. I’d feel the very same.” Kohane agreed.

“But you can see can’t you? What’s wrong with me.”

Kohane doesn’t say anything, but there’s something in her face that Himawari read like an open book.

“You’ll have to forgive me, I’m a bit tipsy from the wine. And I can trust you of course, you’re a dear friend of Watanuki and a stranger. I was born with the curse to bring misfortune to those I touch and am near to. I cannot love Watanuki in a way that won’t hurt him. So I had to leave.”

“That is very noble of you.” Kohane said with kindness. It hurts Himawari to hear this from a girl she barely knew more than she thought it would.

“No, I have to think of myself as a person who brings bad luck first before a girl. I knew if I stayed there would always be a temptation to let myself be a girl, and bring Watanuki pain. I had to leave, because I knew if I asked Watanuki for it, he would oblige. And as a person who brings misfortune to others, I cannot stay with him. I can’t risk staying. And he knows this too, and that is why only once a year I can come. He never says it outloud, but I know. There is only pain for us.”

“Do you still love him?”

“Time soothes the sharpest of wounds. My feelings aren’t as passionate anymore, but it doesn’t make it any less painful.” Himawari raises her hand, the one adorned with an engagement ring. Kohane watches. “I cannot choose who I want to love. My fiance is a businessman, and he was born with great luck. When his parents and people close to him found out about his ability, they abused his powers and used him. We met by accident and he pursued me. I was very lonely as I had nobody else for a friend, and I accepted. He asked me to be his girlfriend and I told him about my curse. He told me about his blessing.”

Himawari sighed and she let her hand drop. “I know he has some spiritual power, but I don’t know if he saw my curse and that is why he pursued me. Every other woman he has pursued ended up using him for his luck, however I can’t do that because I am so inherently unlucky.  
  
“I help him escape his blessing and he helps me escape my curse. I’m afraid to ask, and I think it’s better if I don’t know if he knew that I was cursed and that was the sole reason he decided to approach me. I will only feel bad about it, but I can’t do anything to change it. Even though I have brought so much misery to others, I do not want to live my life alone and unloved. I love him, I do, but I am bitter I never had the choice to choose.”

“I'm sorry to hear that.” Kohane said earnestly, sincerity adorning her words. There was no pity, only acceptance. It soothed the brittle and prickly edges in Himawari’s heart. She is a kind and good child.

“It’s nothing you can change.” Himawari replied kindly. “Do you have any problems? I dumped all mine on you, I can listen in return. You seem like a kind child, you must keep silent not to worry your friends and family. I’m a stranger, your burdens won’t weigh heavily on me.”

“I suppose.” Kohane wonders, thinking. 

“You must have something.” Encouraged Himawari. “Watanuki is a kind person, he is kind in ways that will hurt him. I have no right to say this because I left, but having such a reckless person as your most important person comes with it’s problems.”

“No, you are right. There are problems.” Kohane’s voice edged as she continued. “But you have no right to judge him when it is his kindness that saved you.”

“I’m not judging him. I love him, even if he infuriates me. I would do anything for him, but he never asks.” Himawari smiled sadly. “Well? Go on, say what you want. This is between us only.”

“I guess, because Watanuki is dear to me, I am jealous of Shizuka because of his bond with Watanuki. Shizuka is useful to his business, and their bond goes beyond my reach. I do not know if it is because it is a bond only males can have, or if it is something else entirely.”

“I’ve always felt that their bond would be deep and special. I just didn’t have a name for it, so I simply said it was friendship.” Himawari agreed.

“I want to be close to Watanuki and help him, in any way I can.” Kohane murmurs. Himawari reaches over, feeling a strange burst of maternal warmth in her heart, and strokes the girl’s hair.

“Oh, I’m sorry! That was strange of me.” Himawari jerks her hand back and stares in surprise.

“No, it’s fine. Thank you.” Kohane smiles, unshed tears shining in her eyes.

“You don’t look alright.” Himawari worries, fretting about Kohane. “Would you like to go inside? Did I offend you? I’m very sorry.”

“No, no. It’s nothing of the sort.” Kohane wipes away the budding tears. “My mother, you see, used me for my abilities and for the longest time didn’t love me. You just reminded me of her, when she did love me, so much that it hurts.”

“I’m sorry, I really am.” Himawari hesitated between leaning forward and hugging the girl to comfort her or back away and give her space.

“No, it’s fine.”

“Would it be alright if I hugged you?” Himawari offers.

“I would love it.” Kohane nods. Himawari hugs Kohane gently, enveloping her in the faint smell of lilac. “Thank you.”

Himawari released the girl from her grip and smiled at her. “I’m glad to hear about your worries.”

“I think we’re too close to be strangers anymore.” Kohane replies. “Can we be friends? Not because we are friends of Watanuki, and so we should also be friends, but because we can be friends. I’d like it a lot.”

Himawari nods. “Alright, let’s be friends. But I still want to hear your worries. We’ll be close enough to be friends, but distant enough to tell each other burdens.”

“It was nice meeting you. Until next year.” Kohane nods at Himawari as she stands up.

“You already know I’m leaving?” A little surprised, but mostly not. The girl nodded.

“I’ll tell them that you left early. You don’t feel like crying around Watanuki.”

“Well, that is what I get for overdrinking this year. I usually don’t overdrink, but it’s enough to make me more than a bit emotional.” Laughs Himawari, her voice light and feathery in the air. “Until next year, Kohane. Live happily, not just for Watanuki, but for yourself.”

Kohane thought that Himawari really did remind her of her mother.


	4. Wrong Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Been awhile. I'm not sure why, but I felt like writing XXXholic. That's a lie, I'm avoiding homework the best way I know it, through writing and drawing. . . .haaaa.  
> I also think that there are almost no fictions talking about Domeki and Yuko interacting? I wrote a little on it (lot's of subtext there because I cannot write on the worst of days nor the best).   
> I tend to avoid subtext entirely, but XXXHolic is a steaming pile of subtext, so I decided to also try and write subtext too.

Domeki doesn’t know what to think of Yuko. She is beautiful, mysterious, and a dark red color that pools at the edges of a wound. If he were a weaker man (oh, but he is, isn’t he) he would have fallen for her. But more than that, he’s wary of her. She’s dangerous, and so so very close to violence.

He can tell, he’s always been able to tell. He knows to avoid the girls who feel nothing but want, he knows to avoid the boys who fill with nothing but hate. There’s a knife-edge about Yuko, a glimmer in the steel. It feels like she will swing down with all her might and then shatter into thousands of people. It makes him wary, it makes him awed.

“Where’s Watanuki.” He asks, watching her lounge on her couch. She’s wearing a long yellow satin dress, patterned with butterflies and cranes. 

“I sent him out on an errand.” She replies. They are the only two people in the entire room.

The room feels alarmingly small, and it smells like incense. “You want to talk to me.”

“Well, of course I do.” She smiles, her lips are red. “I think it’s time I ask you something, how much do you trust Watanuki?”

“Not much.” Domeki answers instantly, without any hesitation.

“There’s something you want, isn’t there? Will you pay the price?” Yuko looks sleepy, her voice slow and flat. “You descended from priests and worshippers. But, we live in godless times, unfit for such a family.”

Domeki thinks to the emptiness in his life. Archery was the closest thing he felt to devotion, love (it’s becoming boring, but he doesn’t want to let go, he’ll really have nothing left then). He loves his mother, but she is distant. She’s too devoted to her work, and it was too much for his father. 

“I have never found my life unsatisfactory.” 

“Lie all you want outside, but do not lie to me.” Her eyes are wide open and bright. Then she tilts her head up, and the rivers of black hair move. “Forgive me, I was being rude. I did not mean to snap at you, you aren’t quite deserving of it.”

Her words are cool and sweet, but he knows she means every single one of them. 

“I’m not lying. I have never felt the need for anything.” He cannot think of a single thing he would change about his life. His mother is always busy, but he still means something to her. Archery keeps his attention. Homework and school gives him something to pursue, and history can be interesting at times. Even Watanuki, a troublesome presence in his life, at times can be entertaining.

“I’m not asking about needs, I’m asking about wants.” She closes her eyes again. There’s a pretense of vulnerability, but Domeki feels it’s falseness. Yuko is dangerous even if she loses all her limbs, her eyes, and her tongue. Her danger lies in more than flesh. “The greed that plagues all human hearts may be lesser in yours, but it is still there.”

Domeki opens his mouth, and to his surprise, there are words swarming at the back of his throat. All these little sentences, all these bitter words. They are ugly. They are loveless. And they are his. Nothing comes out, and Yuko watches him speculatively, the ruby of her eyes glimmering.

“I see.” She sighs, but it isn’t a mournful sigh. “Bring me it. You’ll know it when you feel it.”

There’s a smell of incense, and he’s outside the crescent moon shaped fence posts. Then he’s in front of the family shrine. His father is already starting dinner. Next week he’ll go to his mother, and his father knows this. His father likes to cling to him with weakly offered smiles and rice. There are no words, no begging. It’s always been like this.

It’s a gift his mother gave him, just a simple thing. A silver ring, a band of metal. It’s cold in his hands. Domeki has never worn this ring. He never will (it was never his to wear). He sets the ring down again.

At school Watanuki confronts him, bristling like a wet cat. “What did you and Yuko talk about?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t lie to me, you big lug! This is serious!” He screams, loudly. Irritatingly. 

“Do you have to yell?”

“Yes! Because otherwise you don’t answer!” 

“It’s nothing important.” Domeki replies back, trying not to sigh or lapse back into silence. The silence riles Watanuki up.

It’s as if even a moment of peace would mean that Watanuki would disappear into the noiseless air. Instead, Watanuki has to rile the air up, sending it shaking with his voice. But, Domeki doesn’t hate it too much. 

“Of course it’s something important.” Watanuki frowns, wringing his hands. “There’s always a price for these sorts of things.”

“It’s a shop.”

“You know what I mean! Stop being obtuse!” The other people in the hallway aren’t even turning their heads to the source of Domeki’s current pain, even though he’s being loud enough to warrant a stink-eye from passerby. 

“It’s nice.”

“What is wrong with you?” Watanuki asks in a rather small voice. The boy stares at him like Domeki grew another head. “What is nice about this?”

“Nothing.” And he barely manages to hide a smirk when that sets the boy off into another shouting frenzy.

He follows Watanuki to the shop, and feels something click into place once he passes the gate. It’s familiar. It’s warm. Watanuki does not look back, even though Domeki keeps looking forward and at him. 

Yuko is not there today, and it barely registers to him. Watanuki starts cleaning and cooking, shouting and screaming. Domeki sits on the floor and feels the lull of the floor beneath him. A sense of longing, a sense of happiness. He stares as sunlight pours down onto the wooden floor, Watanuki is pushing the fringes of his hair back, eyes focused on the ground. Sunlight frames his face and his eyes are a cool blue in the hot summer day.

"What are you staring at?" snaps Watanuki, without even acknowledging Domeki's eyes. Domeki just turns away.

"Mn."

And Watanuki likes to let dying dogs rest, and doesn't say anything. 

That sense of happiness doesn’t stay. Watanuki loses his other eye. And Domeki feels anger. All he feels is the pulse in his ear and the need to move. To do something. His anger always ran hot, something he inherited from his father. 

“I want to give him my own eye.” He grits out to Yuko. The shop feels less like an embrace but a strangle. Yuko doesn’t smile.

“Are you sure?” 

“Of course I’m sure.” He snorts back. Yuko tilts her head, her eyes grow colder. Domeki tries to ignore her, but it’s impossible. Even a single twitch of her finger sends the shop aflame, and likewise, he feels nothing but freezing threats. “I know what it means. Just do it.”

He can’t keep looking at her. She’s wearing purple today, with golden embroidery. She looks more alien, foreign. Something inhuman. There’s something to say about himself when that doesn’t repulse him, no instead it makes him feel something.

The arrow leaving his fingers, hitting the mark. 

“You were born in the wrong time, the wrong place.” She replies, and touches his eyelid. It’s a feathery touch, light. 

It burns, his eye burns

He hisses, and fists the fabric of his pants. There’s two urges warring inside him, tearing him apart. One was to flinch away, run away. Another was to grab Yuko’s hand and snap each individual bone. 

It really hurts (but he stays).

What he would do for someone to stay by his side. What he would do to want to stay by someone’s side. Words he’s unable to say, and they burn along with his eye.

He wakes up on the couch, and it smells like lavenders and alcohol. Yuko is standing by his side, her face blank. “Do you want water?”

His throat is hoarse. Gingerly, gently, Yuko helps him swallow a cup of water. 

“If you continue it’ll only get worse.” He’s never been kind, he’s never been gentle. 

Then she nods her head, just slightly, and silently leaves the room, the train of purple fabric like a cut of color in the black room. Then, he sighs. The room is cool, and there’s something empty about his mind. The most emptiest thing is the purest thing, his mother had told him when he was young. 

It must be the loneliest thing, then, to be pure.

And unbidden, or perhaps entirely because of, Watanuki pops up into his mind. 

He still feels anger. Passion is not something he deals well with, so it’s easy to say that when he gets better and leaves the sweet of the shop, and his hand grasps the ring-he hands it to Yuko. The ring is barely warm, even though he ran with it all the way to the shop. Even though there is sweat beading his forehead. 

Yuko takes it without a word, her eyes cat-like. She’s wearing a mourner’s white, dressed up like she’s going to a funeral. For all that he knows, she is. He wouldn’t be surprised. For all that Yuko talks about the worth of a life, Domeki would be deeply surprised if he learns that Yuko has never killed. Her lips are next to his ears, her words warm against his skin. The black hair is slipping down (they will be words that only the gods know). 

“Thank you for coming.” Yuko smiles at him, and the ring slips into the many folds of her clothes. 

It makes him feel alive when he stands in the shop. His blood thrums, his head hurts. It’s dangerous, and he’s always been a wary person, but it’s such a beautiful place (he can’t help it). Perhaps if he were a stronger man (he never was) he’d run away from the shop. Run away from all that built it, all that it would mean. 

“One day, you’ll get a ring in return. That’s when you’ll know, it will be enough.” She promises. “Until that moment, you can choose to run, but you will never be able to escape afterwards.”

“Why would I run?” He asks and finally, finally, tries to look back at her. Not at the flesh, but genuinely at Yuko. She laughs, and it’s bright and sweet, and entirely disarming (it’s utterly enthralling).

He sees something he’s not meant to see, and she silences him with a touch on his shoulder as she stands up and leaves the room. Yuko is a knife, and she’s already swung, but for some reason she hasn’t shattered. She can’t shatter. 

His mother and he are the same. His grandfather and father would hold a broken thing for the sake of sentimentality, but they would not. That was why his mother had left. And that would be why he would be left forever wandering. 

The shop feels familiar. And it’s terrifying, he will never leave this place if he doesn’t want to.

“I like rare and valuable things.” Yuko had said once. “I provide them a place to stay before they leave. Such things when kept just to admire lose their meaning.”

Domeki disagrees, but doesn’t say anything. But she still gives him the egg regardless. 

There are very few conversations they have together that have any meaning. He doesn’t like to talk, and she only likes to talk about things that need to have meaning. 

“You don’t blame your ancestors.” Yuko says, unprompted.

“Why would I blame them?” He says simply. 

“Because many others would.” They are at the picnic. The air is filled with flower petals and the smell of sweet things. Watanuki is laughing and Kohane is smiling back.

It feels unreal. Domeki doesn’t feel real. It's a beautiful and fragile picture, already fading away despite his best attempts to burn it into his memory. He will never experince something like this again. 

“I don’t feel the need to.” He finally settles on that answer. 

And days pass.

Yuko, seen through Watanuki’s eyes, shatters into thousands of different people. And all those people were already dead. He dreams that night, that Yuko leaves the shop without looking back, and that he is the one staying at the shop.

Domeki tries not to be cruel, but in every way that matters, Yuko is entirely ruthless (even though she doesn’t want to, anymore). 

Watanuki feels like a trembling string, stretched too thin, ready to snap. He attracts gods and ghosts, stories and monsters. Domeki is there to act as his sword, his guardian. In a mundane life where his next thought would be how to leave his sticky but shaky father, wondering if his mother would ever come back, if his vision would compromise his aim again-a world around Watanuki has none of that.

He feels at home, covered in the blood of another creator pawing at the gates of the store.

He feels at home when Watanuki stares at him, in Yuko’s clothes (even though he’s so fragile, so close to breaking) and then collects himself. “Wipe the blood off your face.”

“Mn.” It’s useless to try and wipe the blood off with his hand. “Towel.”

“What am I? Your servant?” Grumbles Watanuki, but scrambles to fetch it. He takes the towel and wipes at the blood. “You are not doing it properly.”

Watanuki takes the towel from his hand and starts gingerly wiping the blood, gently. 

He stays at the shop more than he does at home.

“Hey, don’t fall asleep! You’re still filthy! Take a bath first.” Watanuki’s sharp voice breaks his dull, and keeps him from thinking too deeply.

Domeki only sighs, even though he truly doesn’t mind. “The gate is dirty too.”

“So? Go clean first, or else I won’t feed you.” Watanuki snarks.

Cut fruits set on his table while he studies. His fathers attempt at enticing him home with cooked fish. No wonder he feels at home. And even more so, when he finally feels the last parts of himself click with the shop. It’s a subtle but important thing, and it’s as if he sees a new color in the world around him. 

“Here, take this.” Watanuki drops something in his palm.

The peachwood ring is still warm from Watanuki’s touch. Domeki feels like crumpling to his knees. 

“Hey, you alright?” Watanuki’s voice is sharp as ever. “Are you. . .smiling?”

(If only he were a stronger man) He has never once thought about running. 


End file.
